I'll love you forever
by Akutenshi3
Summary: Draco confesses his true feelings to Harry about their late night excursions, Harry finds a beautiful locket containing the pictures of two French boys that look familiar and then he is drawn into France, a world of warmth and cold. Tame now but I hope th
1. I feel for you

I'll love you forever  
  
Don't own Harry Potter & co. This is slash; so if you're not old enough, don't read. You have been warned. This is revised, nothing is different cept the French. I thank libellule  
  
For giving me the French, I had just looked up the words on an online dictionary. So, for you French…sorry lost my train of thought. ^_^ Review!  
  
Draco lifted his head, glancing to his left then to his right. His robe fluttered around his lithe body in the night wind, creating an effect you only see in movies. His hand went to his mused hair, trying in vain to smooth the blonde locks. He failed and the hand went instead to his pocket. He pulled out a thin silver lighter from the front of his worn muggle jeans. He then reached into his other pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes; he pulled one out and placed it between his pink lips. The lighter moved to his face and with a flick of the wrist, the small stick was alight. Draco glanced around himself once more, seeing nothing he shoved the lighter into his pocket again and took a long drag from the cigarette. A fine plume of smoke fluttered around his pale head momentarily and disappeared into the night sky.  
  
Suddenly the young wizard turned sharply, cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth, his wand out and ready, his light eyes alert. The boy in front of him raised his hands and smiled.  
  
"It's ok, Draco. Just me." The boy smiled, his emerald eyes twinkling. "Why must we always meet at night?" The boy questioned wistfully, his dark head cocked slightly to one side.  
  
"The Night has a thousand lights, the Day only one." Draco smiled ruefully and brought the lit cigarette once again to his mouth.  
  
"Figures you'd answer a perfectly simple question with a riddle of some sort." The boy smiled warmly and moved to get closer to the blonde haired boy. " Where are we going?" he asked.  
  
"Surprise," was the curt answer.  
  
"Oh, you know how much I love surprises." Harry said sarcastically. Draco turned and dropped the little white stick to the ground, his foot descended on it and crushed out it's light.  
  
"Right. That's why I didn't tell you. Anyway, we need to talk." Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and began to walk. He heard Harry's boots crunching on the gravel behind him, matching his own pace. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, followed by another around his waist. The first hand was removed and then set on the other round his waist, a warm head set upon his shoulder. He kept walking; the wind tickled his face, sent the wild hair resting on his shoulder into his face. He could smell the other boy. He smelt of outside, like he'd just run through the forest and then laid on the cool grass.  
  
"We're here." Draco whispered. 'Here' was a small clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Harry glanced around. He could just barely make out a small pond in the middle; the moon was mirrored in the middle of the black water. The grass sparkled with dew.  
  
"Pretty." Harry murmured.  
  
"Listen, Harry. I don't know how to say this." Harry glanced over at the boy. He was now standing near the edge of the water, his hand trailing through the water. He smiled and nodded. Encouraging Draco to continue.  
  
Draco sighed and tried to go on. "We've been friends for awhile now right?" Harry nodded. "And we know each other pretty well, huh?" Another nod. "Well, I just want to say first, thanks for being my friend and all." Harry smiled at this.  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
Draco nodded nervously. "Yeah, well uh, I feel like you don't know me all the way and… well, I'd like to get to know you better too. I just, um, (swallow) I need to tell you this before you find out from someone else." Harry looked at him, slightly puzzled now.  
  
Draco swallowed now and went on his nervous way. "Harry I…I feel."  
  
Harry looked at the boy. Draco had stopped mid-sentence. "Like a material girl?" he offered. All he got was a puzzled look from Draco. "Never mind, please, go on."  
  
"Potter," Harry noticed Draco had lapsed back into using his last name. This didn't seem like it was good bit o' news. "I can't see you anymore. Not…not like this. If we're going to start something, I need to know. I can't just keep screwing you like this. I can't do this anymore. If we continue to do this, I need something stable from you." Harry sat in stunned silence. "You, you told me we could stop if I said so. And I say so. I don't want this. I don't want you coming to my bed when you need a quick fuck. I don't want you to be able to just shrug this off and say afterward, 'Gee, Malfoy. That was a jolly good fuck. Thanks for being there.' And pat me on the back." Draco spat all this out while Harry watched on in silence.  
  
The blonde haired boy now began to pace, his cool exterior was slowly melting away. "See, I know when we started it was all okay and lots of fun. But now, I just can't do this. No more sex, not under these circumstances. I just can't do this anymore, not like this."  
  
"But Draco I thought you, of all people…"  
  
"Yes, Draco Malfoy, king of casual sex. But Harry I didn't feel anything for them, so it was okay."  
  
"But *we* don't feel anything."  
  
"No, Harry. You don't feel anything. I do. I DO! I feel and I hurt and I cry. And every night after you leave, the pillow is wet and my insides hurt and, and, and…"Draco collapsed onto the cool grass, his robe crumpling around his body. He looked blankly at Harry. "Don't you see?" He half whispered, half asked. Harry looked at him, his face unreadable. He slowly shook his head no.  
  
A single tear trickled down Draco's alabaster cheeks, leaving a glistening trail behind. "I feel for you. For you!" His hand moved to wipe away more tears. They collected in his gray eyes and came spilling down his cheeks. Suddenly realization dawned on Harry.  
  
"Draco, I didn't know." He was now staring at the sniffling Slytherin; he was stunned to say the least.  
  
"Damn right you didn't know!" Draco shouted. Harry coiled backwards. Draco's chest was now heaving, his lower lip trembling. "Did you know how much it hurt? To see you with all those guys? When you could have had me? I would have given my heart to you. My fucking heart!" he sobbed out.  
  
"Draco, I'm sorry. I didn't know, had I known, I would have stopped."  
  
Draco looked up at Harry, his tears now dry. "Right, well, doesn't matter. I'm sorry we can't do this and I really did like it, just not this, not this way." The silver haired boy stood quickly, something flashed on the ground and he walked away. Harry stood behind, watching the departing back. He noticed the something on the ground and he stooped to pick it up.  
  
In his calloused hand lay a small silver locket, a dragon on the front. The emerald eyes glittered and its scaled body was the color of ice on a winter day. It was a small oval locket and the body curled around itself in the middle. The thin chain glittered in the moonlight, the silver metal felt cold against Harry's own warm hand. He opened the locket to see two small pictures in the center. Both were hand painted and the people were wearing what looked to be medieval clothing. The one on the right was a young smiling man with black hair. His eyes were bright green and his skin was like pale marble, it was so pale. Below the little picture was the caption 'Raoul de MonCoeur III'. On the right was another boy, this one a bit more serious but nonetheless he was smirking. His hair was like Draco's, fair blonde. His eyes were a piercing blue, like the sky on a sunny day. His skin was a tan color, a shade or two darker than the other boys. Below this picture was the name 'Lucien de la Nuit IV'. Both boys wore what was obviously expensive clothing.  
  
Harry turned the locket over. In a rolling script was written 'À mon petit dragon,  
  
Je prie pour que tu te souvienne de moi.  
  
Regardes ceci pour voir et le futur, et moi.  
  
parle d'amour et tu me verras.  
  
Avec tout mon amour, Raoul  
  
What does this say? Harry wondered. He mulled over it for a moment and decided that he should take it to someone who might know. The thought to return it to Draco never crossed his mind. Harry stood and began walking back to Hogwarts. The locket was now inside his pocket and he fingered it. The back was surprisingly smooth and his fingers kept straying to the engraved writing. Gently rubbing the letters, he felt the cool metal slowly begin to warm.  
  
Harry made it to the portrait, mumbled the password and stepped through. He looked around the warm common room. The twins sat near the fire playing chess, with Seamus sitting rather close to George. Hermoine sat on a large chair, absorbed in a book. He didn't see Ron and figured he might be upstairs. Harry walked over to Hermoine and sat down in a nearby chair. She glanced up and went back to her book.  
  
"Hi, Moine. What are you reading?" Harry asked, tilting his head toward the thick book. She looked up and smiled.  
  
"The History of 12th Century,"  
  
"Yeah, that's nice." Harry interrupted. "Hey, I found this outside. What does it say?"  
  
Harry pulled the locket from his pocket and handed it to the brown haired girl. She set the thick book on the arm of her chair and turned the locket over in her hands.  
  
"Wow, this is beautiful. You found this?" she asked. Harry nodded. She opened the locket slowly with a click. "This looks like you and Malfoy." She stated. Harry hadn't thought this and now remembered that the two boys did sort of look like Harry and Draco. "Raoul de MonCoeur the third. Lucien de la Nuit the fourth. Harry, these are in French.," she pointed to the boys, ". Where did you find this?"  
  
"Uh, just in a little shop."  
  
"This must have cost a fortune." She murmured. Her fingertips gently traced the faces.  
  
"Yeah, what does it say?" Harry now asked impatiently. Hermoine turned the locket over and looked at the back.  
  
"Um, I only took French for two years and that was a couple of years ago but I can try to translate. This here says to my little dragon. Huh, wonder what that means. Well, anyway. This middle part here says I pray you remember me. Look to this to see both the future and me. Speak of love and see me. The last part here says with all my love, Lucien." Hermoine now sat back and looked at Harry. "Sounds like they were close. I wonder what that last part meant." Harry looked up at her.  
  
"What part?"  
  
"Well, it said to speak of love and see me. What does that mean?"  
  
Harry shrugged and reached out to take the locket back, his thoughts whirling in his mind. Once the jewelry was again in his hand, he stood. He retreated to the stairway where he stopped for a second. He looked over his shoulder to see the girl once again absorbed in her book.  
  
"Moine, what's love in French?"  
  
She kept her nose down and then glanced up quickly. "Amour." She supplied. Harry thanked her and began to walk up the stairs. He reached his dorm and sat down heavily on his bed. He could hear Ron snoring in the bed over and could see Dean sleeping soundly. He shed his clothing quickly and jumped into bed, the locket firmly in his hand.  
  
He looked down at the little sparkling thing and smiled. He opened the little locket, the clasp making a small squeaking sound. The two boys smiled up at him, dressed in French finery and hair styled just so. "Amour." He whispered and closed the trinket. He set his glasses on the bedside table. The necklace stayed in his hand and he slowly fell asleep.  
  
****  
  
That night he dreamt of a place far from his time. He walked down a breezy corridor, looking around himself confused. The walls were lined with tapestries, gently moving in the soft wind. He looked down the hallway to see a room at the end. He could see people mulling around in there, chatting idly and moving around the large room. In the middle sat a long table, in front of a blazing fireplace. The light danced on the walls, he quickened his pace, eager to get to the awaiting people. He stepped over the threshold and suddenly was engulfed in clapping. Someone called out to him and he turned round to be confronted by a beautiful boy. He stood smiling and made to get closer so as to embrace him. He felt the boys arms close round him quickly and tightly, perhaps a bit too long but he didn't notice. The boy pulled back and smiled again, calling him Raoul.  
  
"So, you've decided to join us?" was asked teasingly by the youth. He nodded his head. "Well, we are all very proud of you young count, 'tis the night you become a man." The pale haired boy led him over to the table and seated him near the fire. He sat himself and looked over the long table, taking in all the smiling faces.  
  
A bearded man lifted a wooden goblet and the rest followed. "To the young count. Many nights may you lead a woman to bed and many days may you hunt!" The table laughed and followed the bearded mans example. They raised glasses to lips and drank.  
  
He looked over at the pale boy beside him. He too smiled. "To Raoul!" he shouted and then drank deeply from his glass.  
  
The night was over too soon for his tastes. They had eaten many fine foods, not what he was used to but certainly good. Then as the new day drew near, the company slowly retired to rooms and offered farewells. Several women dipped low, exposing milky breasts to his eyes, men bowed and smiled. Finally the blonde haired boy led him to a room.  
  
"I'm so proud of you Raoul." He whispered and opened the door. Harry was greeted by a spacious room, a fireplace near the bed blazing cheerily. "Now, let's make you a real man." Was whispered into his left ear. He turned to see the boy when his own lips met soft as petal lips. He felt a pair of strong hands grip his waist tightly, felt his body being pushed softly and gently into the room.  
  
The dark haired boy opened his previously closed eyes and looked into the light colored eyes in front of his own green. The firelight danced and played in the bright eyes. His eyes traced over the tall boy before him. The blonde's hair reached his shoulders, the light colored hair reminded him of winter, although somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the boy liked summer much more. An image flitted quickly through his mind. This light haired, blue-eyed boy, knee deep in cool water, the sun shining down brightly as he turned and waved. It was gone before it even truly registered in his mind. He was pulled back to the present when he felt once again a pair of soft lips gently pressing into his own. He felt the boy's pale hands gripping the back of his shirt and pulling, pulling the shirt up off of his back and over his head.  
  
He felt the cool air on his now naked chest and automatically covered it by crossing his arms in front. The blonde undid his arms, gently but firmly, and hugged him. The dark haired boy could feel the soft leather shirt against his skin, rubbing gently in places he had never considered to feel good. The boy pulled away and smiled gently, his pastel eyes smiling also.  
  
"I'll love you forever." He whispered and then leaned down to kiss the dark haired boy softly on the forehead. The blonde pulled at his own shirt frantically, trying to pull it up and off but only succeeding in getting caught up in the dark leather. The raven-haired boy smiled and helped out the taller boy, gently untangling his long arms and throwing the shirt into the corner. Now the two faced each other half naked, until the blonde yanked frantically at the lacings keeping his breeches up. He succeeded in wrenching them to his knees, then he stumbled and stepped out of the cloth. The green-eyed boy giggled softly behind his hand and followed gracefully, successfully depantsing himself and reaching the bed.  
  
They tumbled into bed, the firelight dancing on their now naked skin, warming and casting long shadows on young lithe bodies. They lay silently next to each other for a minute, listening to the soft crackling of the logs in the fire, listening to each other breathing, until the dark haired boy rolled over and gazed longingly into nearly silver eyes. He smiled gently and moved closer to the boy, grasping him round his narrow hips and snaking a leg over and between the two pale legs. He brought his face close to the other and parted his lips ever so slightly.  
  
"I know." He whispered. "But do you?"  
  
The blonde smiled wickedly and shot forward, bringing his cherry lips against the pink before him, crushing the two together. His hands began to explore the smooth planes of a seasoned hunter and flyer, tickling here and there, and every so often, gently rubbing sore muscles. The dark haired boy writhed softy and groaned into the kiss, breaking it. He brought his mouth to the soft surface of a pale neck and jaw line. He nipped softly up and down the boys jaw, then kissed his way slowly down the long neck. Stopping every so often to nibble and nip softly. The blonde arched his neck, baring more skin for the dark haired boy to devour. Soon the alabaster skin was covered in small red, moon shaped circles and teeth marks. The blonde hissed through his teeth when the other boy reached his shoulders and then began to softly suckle on the skin near his dark nipples. The pale boy gasped and brought his hands to the back of the dark hair, urging the boy on.  
  
They tumbled into ecstasy together, unmindful of the outer world, only knowing beautiful release and rapturous nights. The two boys were joined as one that night; they made love as only the gods can. They came with gasps of pleasure and moans of excitement. They fell asleep together, holding each other closely.  
  
***  
  
Harry woke slowly, his thoughts a muddled puddle of confusion. He remembered having a confusing fight with Draco, finding something precious and then like a memory, he remembered his dream. It all seemed so real, so perfect. Making love with his blonde dragon on warm fur near a crackling fire. His skin tingled with the memory of soft butterfly kisses, he remembered shouting a boy's name in ecstasy and then it got kind of muddy again.  
  
Harry rolled over onto his side and saw a little silver trinket on the pillow. He picked it up and turned it over, surmising it was a locket. He opened it and was greeted by last night's lover. The raven-haired boy felt the name come bubbling up and out of his throat before he saw the small caption below the carefully drawn portrait.  
  
"Lucien," he whimpered…and then dissolved into tears.  
  
****  
  
Wow, deep. O_o Huh, so review and we'll see where I'm going with this story. ^-^  
  
Kiira 


	2. Mon Coeur

I'll love you forever  
  
Chapter 2- Mon Coeur  
  
I don't own Harry Potter and Co. I own Lucien and Raoul though, so don't use them with out asking, k? This chapter does have some dirty scenes, so if you don't like that hit that back button. Go on, you can do it. I know you can do it. Yeah, there you go. Still reading this? Jeez, are you an idiot or what? Ha ha. STILL reading?! Well, just read that below.  
  
Still there? (Peers around corner) Idiot. Sorry, I like you, you read my stories. ^_^  
  
Are you still reading? You're denser than I thought.  
  
***  
  
Draco glanced over at the redhead across the room, his pert nose wrinkled in disgust and he went back to scribbling viciously on his scroll, the nib made loud scratching noises in the quiet room. Several Gryfindors glared at him when he swore loudly and made a loud grating noise upon his thick paper. Harry glanced over at the boy, wary of the blonde sixth year. Ron elbowed him sharply in the side and turned back to his own report. The raven-haired boy glanced once more and he too returned to his work. He peered over at the mumbling boy again, surprised himself, when the youth jumped up from his seat to proclaim something in another language and then plop back into his seat. Harry's brows furrowed in confusion and he felt another jab in his side.  
  
Ron looked at him accusingly, as though he had just said something slanderous about the Chuddley Cannons. Harry gave him a weak smile and turned back to his report on The Witches and Warlocks of 4th Century France. Boring! Harry yawned and his professor gave him a sharp look, again the sheepish smile appeared.  
  
***  
  
Raoul was the second son in the MonCoeur line, his two brothers, the eldest being Pierre and the youngest Louis, were babied and pampered, Raoul was often forgotten. He looked like his mother and had her sharp wit and endless curiosity. His older brother Pierre, seemed content to hunt in the forest and his younger brother was happy bedding as many young women as he could, which was not frowned upon by his father. He himself preferred his mother, Natasha, to his father, the count MonCoeur, any day and he liked to spend the days in her rooms, discussing the latest news from Paris or quietly reading a book while she sat mending or writing.  
  
Raoul was not born into a particularly high family, they were of noble blood and all that formality, but they were content in their high place and warm in their castle. He was not a robust man like his brothers and father; rather he was fair and thin boned like his mother. He had her raven hair and her piercing emerald eyes, while his brothers carried a surmisable thatch of blonde hair and dull blue eyes. He was tall and thin, his brothers shorter and bowlegged, covered in substantial muscles. Raoul stood tall and was not swayed easily, he thought all of his decisions through and was fair to his kindred and servants alike. His brothers were more than a bit slow.  
  
Now, Raoul was a smart boy and preferred his learning lessons to any hunting lessons, although that did not mean he was not any less proficient in that department, quite the opposite. On balmy days in the south of France, the green eyed boy liked to wander the forest or visit the trickling stream the skirted their small kingdom. He often carried his wand, for his family was an accomplished wizarding family and he was liked to practice in the quiet and stillness of the forest.  
  
On one of these warm days is when our two star crossed lovers met.  
  
***  
  
Lucien is almost the complete opposite of Raoul. He certainly looks much different than the pale skinned boy. His skin is the color of freshly baked bread, a buttery gold and his hair a light blonde, his eyes are the hue of the winter sky. He was born into nobility practically royalty, as a first son. His older sister didn't look like him and he was the only person in the family with blonde hair. He knew his duties and performed them unquestioningly. Lucien was a good son in every sense of the word and he prided himself. He was taught in all weaponry and wizardry, knew many a dark spell as well as white.  
  
Lucien was always a loner, never one to play nice with other children. It's not that he was mean or selfish, just that he was bored with childish games by the time he was nine and longed for grown-up talks, like the ones his father and mother had over the dinner table. He soon became acquainted with the world of written word and loved every character in his cherished books. Lucien was now sixteen and well on the way to manhood. He knew carnal pleasure already with both the maidens and the older men. Now, at this time, it was not unheard of a man taking a younger boy under his wing for a night, for a small price, most often a small pouch of coins. Lucien quite liked his nights with the men of southern France and often slipped out of his room to enjoy a night at a local tavern and then a warm bed.  
  
When he first laid eyes on the dark haired elfin boy, he thought him merely a dream, something too pretty to be real. He was sorely wrong.  
  
***  
  
Raoul strolled along the thin path, the long grasses smacked gently against his boots. He had quickly pulled on a pair of leggings, a thin shirt, and his softest riding boots when he had looked outside his bedroom window to see the crystal sky. And now he strode along the path, wand in his pocket waiting to be called upon, the sun dazzled him and fell upon the boy in dappled patches. The grass swayed softly with a breeze and the trees whispered above him, telling him secrets of the wood.  
  
Lucien had long reached the small stream that sang just beyond his family's property in the morn and now sat near it, silver flute to raised mouth. He had long ago learned to play the lute and then the flute, his nimble fingers able to nearly dance along the stem of the thin instrument. He filled the air with the cool notes of his playing and he played for himself. His blonde head nodded in tune and his fingers found their rightful places along the small holes lining the stem. Soon the air was warmed with songs of summer and lost love. Every so often the blue-eyed boy would stop playing to sing a word or two but he mostly kept to playing. Lucien was thinking of his last lover and how he longed to be embraced by the older man soon. He craved the man's agile fingers; warm words and most of all the way the man could fill him up so grandly. So when he looked up and spotted the boy, he thought it merely a figment of his impassioned mind. He dismissed the thin boy and continued to play his song of desire and sadness.  
  
So, it came as quite a surprise when he heard a voice connected to that heavenly body.  
  
"What are you doing on my family's land?"  
  
***  
  
Harry sat in the dorm, on his bed, already wrapped in his thick blankets and fingering the small locket. He had seen Draco act more unusual than, well, usual and was more than a bit worried but he had other things on his mind at the moment. He flipped open the front and gazed at the two lovers, for now he was most certain they had been lovers. And again, he was transported to a world not his own.  
  
***  
  
Lucien's bronze hand traveled down the smooth plane laid out before his hungry eyes. The boy under him thrilled at his cool touch and squirmed gently under his darker body. Finally two thin fingers latched cruelly onto a dusty nipple, causing the dark haired boy to shudder and bite his lip for fear of being caught. The blonde trilled softly in his ear and licked gently at his ear lobe, again sending the boy into bliss.  
  
"Oh, my little sun god, my heart belongs to you." Lucien whispered silkily into the boy's ear. Raoul whimpered softly. And with that Lucien directed two fingers to Raoul's hot mouth, where they were accepted greedily and sucked and lapped at. He removed his wet fingers and gently entered the whimpering boy's backside, causing the boy to gasp. He pumped gently and when he felt the dark haired teen begin to push back, he removed his fingers and slid gently into the hot space. The emerald-eyed boy groaned deep in his throat and Lucien's fingers came once again to his mouth, where he sucked them in readily. Lucien gasped when he realized he was all the way inside the groaning boy and began to pull out delicately. Raoul sucked greedily on the fingers and pushed back, trying to get more of the bronze teen inside his body.  
  
Soon the boys were pulled into a whirlwind of pleasure and ecstasy. Lucien began to pump wildly into his lover and Raoul pushed back eagerly, trying to stay in contact as long as possible with the teen. Lucien's tan hand found Raoul's pale erection and stayed there for merely a second, gently whispering along the head and then gently began to run his fingers along the bottom. He was now thrusting wildly into Raoul and the paler teen was thrusting back fervently, his moaning now directed to the fingers in his mouth. Lucien was pumping his long fingers into the willing mouth, thrilled at the feeling of suction on them and then he felt Raoul contract around his arousal, sending him into oblivion.  
  
He felt his hand coated in Raoul's creamy orgasm and he collapsed on the boy's sweating back, his legs felt tight and stretched at the same time and he wondered briefly how the boy was holding the two of them up after such a powerful orgasm. He pulled his fingers from the teen's mouth with a soft popping sound and kissed the pale neck before him.  
  
"Mon coeur, mon coeur." He whispered. "You've won my heart."  
  
"My little dragon." Raoul whispered into the hot air.  
  
**  
  
Again Harry woke with a start and an ache in his lower regions. He looked down to see a bulge in his pajama pants and reached in, ready to relieve some stress.  
  
**  
  
Draco woke in a sweat, his body weak and quivering. He had the most vivid dream since finding that locket. He reached for his neck where it should be and found nothing but his soft skin and collarbone. His face became a mask of anguish and bellowed loudly into the dark room. He felt his erection throw tingles of pleasure up his spine and howled louder, angry because he knew who had the locket. That bastard Potter.  
  
**  
  
Harry looked up in surprise, his hand covered in his own cum. He thought he heard something, he looked over at the nightstand, and there in the moonlight glimmered the locket, open. He heard a distant yell and glanced to the door and then to the locket. The little picture of Lucien began to glow softly, Harry's emerald eyes widened.  
  
****  
  
Like it? Write more? Ok, I will. ^-^ I want four reviews and I'll write another chapter. Promise. 


	3. Mon Petit Dragon

Chapter 3- Mon Petit Dragon  
  
There's nothing bad in this chapter. Yes, sadly nothing but the mention of an, well…you'll see.  
  
Harry & Co. belongs to the ingenious J.K. Rowling but Lucien and Raoul belong to me. MEEEE!!!!!!  
  
This is a slash, although nothing bad in this chapter. If you want more, remember your three R's. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!!  
  
In the immortal words of Gir from Invader Zim: "Aww, my pigs."  
  
*****  
  
Harry had fallen asleep, the fragile locket clutched to his breast.  
  
***  
  
Draco Malfoy, revered Perfect, loyal Slytherin, calm seventh year, and the best damn seeker the Slytherin team had ever seen, sat on his bed with his blankets pooled around his waist. In his thin hand lay a silver locket, it had come to him in the middle of the night. The other half, the other side, the other dragon. He flipped open the front and was met by two boys, each with looks of jubilance and delight. He smiled sadly and brought a finger to the darker haired boy, he looked so much like Harry it was unbearable. He looked away, squeezing his eyes shut but still several tears leaked out under long lashes.  
  
***  
  
Three weeks before  
  
***  
  
Harry and Draco had been meeting for months! Meeting for sex and maybe a little snuggle. It had all started on a gloomy Saturday, one of those days notorious for boredom. Draco had decided against going to Hogsmeade, instead he was content to stroll the never-ending, breezy hallways of Hogwarts. It was when he was entering a hall he had never seen before when he ran into a flushed Harry Potter. Draco looked up sharply through his hair, his upper lip already curled in disgust.  
  
"Oh, don't give me that look." Harry had spat, his own 'look' firmly in place.  
  
"Oh?" Draco had sneered. Harry huffed and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Don't give me any of that shit today Malfoy, I have very important business to attend to." And with that Harry had made action to move past the tall Slytherin.  
  
"Oh, are you selling yourself again, Potter? Really, you'd think one would learn, once one got caught giving head to a professor. At least be a bit more discreet about it." That made Harry stop; his mouth was slightly open in surprise. He turned sputtering to Draco, his mouth opening and closing, as though he were miming a fish.  
  
"Yes, everyone knows." Draco stated, emphasizing everyone a great deal more than any other word.  
  
"But..." Harry started. Draco sneered at the boy. His smile spoke of triumph over his greatest enemy.  
  
"Poor, ickle Harry Potter, selling his pretty little body for some clothing for his even poorer friends?" Harry turned a deep shade of red but Draco continued. "And advertising it whenever he can." With that Draco turned to look down the hallway, his hands cupped around his mouth and yelled, "Cock for hire!!!" Harry started. His hand came down sharply on Draco's small shoulder and spun him around.  
  
"Don't you ever!" Harry started.  
  
"What? Tell the truth?" Draco sneered. Harry's emerald eyes blazed and he slammed the boy against the wall, thoroughly jarring him. Draco's head came forward and then back with a smart smack He made a "Hunh," sound and clutched wildly for his head.  
  
Harry had him by the front of his robes. Now, the two boys had gotten into quite a few scuffles in their time but never one that involved fists and physical blows. They raven-haired boy pulled Draco again forward, smacking his head into the hard surface again. Again, Draco made a sound and then his hands dropped limply at his sides, he stared a bit fearfully into Harry's blazing eyes.  
  
"Don't you ever talk to about my friends like that." Spittle flew from his lips when he spoke and Draco cringed. " You can call me whatever the hell you want, but you don't ever insult my friends!" Harry's knee came to rest dangerously close over Draco's groin. Draco's gray eyes widened at the prospect at what might become of his crotch if Harry were to push any harder. "Do you understand me?" Draco just stared uneasily at the threatening boy. Harry's knee came down swiftly and slammed into Draco's groin. Draco sucked in a breath and whimpered, afraid if he went down Harry would hurt him more. "Understand?!" Pain centered at that main spot and radiated out in great waves of agony. Draco's knees quaked, threatening to give way. He slowly nodded his blonde head, Harry smiled at this and pushed his knee just a bit at that spot of pain, almost unaware he was doing it.  
  
The pain was slowly going away, but Harry was still holding Draco against the wall, his face still dangerously close to Draco's own pale face. Draco could feel Harry's warm breath on his lips; feel his hands gripping his robes tightly. And then a totally insane thought crossed his mind, // He could kiss me now…and I would like it. // Draco's silvery eyes widened at this prospect and immediately he felt a stirring in his still painful crotch. The delicate touch of Harry's knee pressed there only increased his embarrassment and he felt the material holding his growing erection begin to tighten. Draco began to fairly pant now, turned on by the boy in front of him and scared he might feel the sizable bulge growing.  
  
Harry smiled cruelly at Draco now, glancing down quickly at his knee and then pushed harder, making Draco gasp with the sheer pleasure of the pressure. "Like that widdle Dracokins?" he whispered maliciously. "See what a slut can do to you?" Harry chuckled and let go of Draco's black robes, only to replace one hand on the bulge in his pants and the other behind his head. Draco bit his lip, trying hard not to groan, // Mustn't let Potter get away with this, mustn't let Potter get away, away, with this, ah hell, let him do whatever he wants. //  
  
***  
  
Lucien looked up in surprise. "What?" he asked. His flute now lay discarded by his knee.  
  
"My father's land? Why are you here?" Raoul asked.  
  
"I thought this was our land." Was the simple reply.  
  
"Do I know you?" Raoul asked suddenly, his face screwed up. Lucien frowned slightly and shook his head, and then realization dawned upon Raoul. "You're that boy."  
  
"What boy?" The blonde asked now.  
  
"I heard you do things, things with other boys." Lucien's blue eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.  
  
"Where did you hear that?!" he whispered loudly, fairly hissing. Raoul smirked, faintly.  
  
"Why? Is it true?"  
  
Lucien's eye's narrowed now and his lips contorted to a thin sliver.  
  
"Because if it's true, I might be interested in knowing." Raoul smiled at Lucien. The blonde eye's widened and then returned quickly to slits.  
  
"Where did you hear that?" he asked venomously. Raoul smiled once more and then, to Lucien's utter bane, shrugged nonchalantly. Lucien asked a little more forcefully. The blonde began to rise from his spot, his hand clutching his flute to his chest. Raoul studied him and cocked his head slightly.  
  
"Why do you care?" Raoul's eyes traversed Lucien's body, quickly assessing him. "Why would you care at all? Unless it were true?" Lucien stiffened slightly and advanced. Raoul continued. " I overheard it in a tavern somewhere." He waved his hand dismissively in the air and continued. "You know, men talking big." Raoul smiled again. "And from what I heard, you would have every reason to." Lucien's blue eyes became slits and then flew open, along with his mouth, when he realized the hidden message imbedded in Raoul's comment. "I'm sure sometime you would be willing to…talk."  
  
Lucien's eyes looked over Raoul. The dark haired boy was completely serious and this made Lucien's mouth become a small 'O' of surprise. Lucien mulled over the decisions in his head and weighed them quickly.  
  
Raoul had been standing there, the small stream babbling to his left, a surprised Lucien in front, when he felt a hot something against his lips. He had been taken completely be surprise. Sure, he had wanted this but this was not how it was supposed to end up. He was going to seduce the boy, he was supposed to kiss him, things were not supposed to end this way. Not like this with Lucien pressed up hotly against his, his hands searching and finding…this wasn't too bad. After all, his plan had worked. Hadn't it? And it would have ended like this anyway, why not let it wash over him?  
  
And so Raoul gave in, finally to the French boy before him, and the rest, they say, is history.  
  
****(Draco)  
  
Draco lay panting softly on his bed, softly stroking the locket that lay on his chest. His bottom half was covered in his own cum but he was oblivious to the sticky mess. His pale eyes were closed and behind those pale lids he could see his precious.  
  
**** (Harry)  
  
Harry glanced over at Ron's sleeping form. The locket was secured firmly around his neck and he touched it lovingly. He loved the way the cool metal felt against his hot skin; Harry closed his eyes and let the cool feeling wash over him. He fingered the locket and was once again delivered to a place he was only recently introduced to.  
  
*****  
  
Lucien and Raoul found each other on a balmy summer day. They consummated their love three weeks later in that same clearing, whispering sweet nothings and soft promises. They fell in love the day after they met and were inseparable from then on out. Raoul would sneak off all hours of the night to meet with Lucien, if only for a quick hug and kiss. Lucien began to practice less and less of the dark magic his father prided his son on. His father soon became enraged and ordered Lucien to stay at home, to never leave. Both boys soon became aware their love might be doomed and clutched closer to each other in an effort to stay forever together. Although they both promised to love each other forever, they began to see less and less of each other. This is where we'll meet the two boys, in the middle of one of the coldest winters France has ever seen.  
  
*****  
  
Raoul sat quietly in his mother's room, writing a letter to his love and listening to his mother sing a soft lullaby to his new little sister. The cold wind rattled at the windows but the three were safe in the warm room, a fire crackling away in the fireplace. Raoul looked over at his mother and his little sister, Lilly. She gurgled happily at her mother and laughed when Natasha's long sleeve caressed her face. Lilly laughed again and Raoul smiled and turned back to his letter. He dipped his quill into the ink and began to write a quick note to Lucien.  
  
  
  
Meet me in the grove tonight. I need to give you something, a present.  
  
R.  
  
Raoul turned back to his mother and sister. Natasha was cradling Lilly to her chest, sleeping soundly now. Natasha looked up and smiled warmly at her favorite son.  
  
"Who are you writing to, Raoul?" Natasha asked. "Your love?" Raoul blushed and looked away. "Do you still refuse to tell me the name of the young girl you are so enamored with? Your own mother?" Natasha sighed, smiled and looked out the window. "Best hurry and give the letter to a servant, the weather is getting worse." She turned back to him and now her pretty face was serious. "I don't want you going out there tonight, understand?" Raoul nodded, his face also grave. He knew that was exactly what he intended but he would never tell her that. "Please promise me, promise me you won't go out tonight."  
  
" I promise, mother." Raoul stood and turned, flashed her a smiled and strode out of the room. He closed the door silently and walked down the drafty hallway, his shoulders slumped. Inside his mother's tears dropped onto his little sister's sleeping face before she wiped them away hastily. She didn't think she would see her most beloved son again.  
  
*****  
  
Raoul grabbed hold of a servant in the courtyard and slipped him several silvers to deliver the letter to Lucien's room. The boy hurried off through the blasting winds, his thin shawl wrapped firmly around his shoulders. Raoul's coal hair obscured his vision; the freezing snow began to fall. He turned, his lips pursed and his eyebrows drawn together.  
  
****  
  
Raoul could hear the wind howling in the night, he turned onto his side and stared into the happily burning fire. He idly stroked the black cat that slept at his side every night and waited for midnight. He tossed restlessly, eager and worried. He would get to see Lucien again, after a month of long letters. He had sent at least five letters in which he poured out his heart to his love, Lucien had replied to none. Raoul turned again and wiped at his eyes. Something on his nightstand caught his eye and he turned to look at the small box.  
  
Raoul stood and walked over to the little table, picking up the box, and opening it. Inside, nestled in a small puff of cotton, lay a silver locket. He opened it to reveal a small portrait of both him and Lucien. They had gone into a nearby village in the summer to get their portraits painted, they had turned out beautifully. Raoul softly stroked Lucien's picture and turned it over. There was a motif of the grove, a dragon resting among the pretty flowers. He stroked a flower in the corner. The small locket began to softly glow and a small compartment opened, a little door on the back opened with a soft snick. The door swung open, inside laid a small lock of hair the color of a raven's on a summer day. As black as the summer sky, Raoul's hair was bound with a thin red ribbon. Raoul's hand came up to push aside the long hair near his ear. There the hair was choppy and short, it contrasted sharply with the rest of his long silky hair.  
  
"My undying devotion, for you my dragon." Raoul whispered into the cold air.  
  
Raoul looked mournfully out the window and sighed. His cat woke with a start, yowling into the night fearfully. The castle awoke, along with the one that could stop their plans.  
  
*****  
  
Harry woke with a start; sweat pouring off of his pale body. His chest heaved sharply and he looked around, confused. The locket around his neck bumped his hot chest, cooling the skin. Harry's hand came up to the dainty locket, gently stroking the silver. He settled back into an easy sleep, his chest rising and falling naturally, his hand clutching the locket.  
  
****  
  
Across the castle Draco also woke, glancing around fearfully. Already, his cheeks were wet and his eyes red. He wiped at his face and his hand groped for the locket. He found it and undid the dainty clasp. He held the chain up to the light flowing in through the window; the thin chain glimmered in the bluish light. Draco brought it to his face and turned over the locket. He looked at the little dragon resting in a grove of flowers and looming trees. He studied the little picture closely and then the tip of his finger softly rubbed a single rose in the corner. The locked shimmered briefly and a small door opened. Inside was a thin lock of coal black hair, coiled in and around itself, a blood red ribbon was tied around it. Draco's mouth came open silently and he looked up, his mouth shutting with a clack.  
  
A boy stood before him, his arms raised and beckoning. His long hair was tossed hastily over one shoulder and bound with a blue ribbon. His clothing consisted simply of a pair of leather britches and a soft white shirt with billowing sleeves. He wore a tattered pair of stockings and his shoes had a hole on one foot. The boy wore a tatty cloak; his shirt had something red splashed on one side. All in all, he looked like a beggar but he held an air about him. He had a soft smile upon his face and he looked intently at Draco. He opened his mouth and came closer.  
  
"Mon petit dragon." He whispered softly into the night air. Draco gasped softly and the locket fell to the bedspread.  
  
******  
  
That's the end of that chapter. Sorry it took so long. I only have three more weeks of school and expect a lot of stories from here to the end of May. Remember: REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!. I will surely write more if you do. 


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